I was moaning now, my hips rolling toward him, unable to control myself. My body was his to command, to control, to pleasure. And just like always, he knew exactly what I wanted.
He stretched me even wider with his fingers and then one was pumping inside of me, then two, his hand fucking me while his tongue lapped at my clit. The water was spilling hot and fast around us, but I barely noticed, I was so caught up in what Ford was doing to me.
Then, without warning, my orgasm slammed into me. I let out a deep, helpless moan, the sound echoing off the walls, holding on to Ford’s broad shoulders as I rode out the waves.
Once I’d caught my breath, I started to lower myself to my knees, but Ford stopped me. He shut off the water and then spun me around and pushed me toward the glass door. I could feel his cock, hard and ready against my ass. We grabbed our towels, but had barely started to dry off before Ford was bending me over the vanity.
I gripped the marble countertop, my body humming with anticipation as he came up behind me. He started tracing my entrance with the tip of his cock and I pushed my ass back to help guide him inside, but once again he stopped me, taking full control.
“You want this big fucking cock?” he asked, smacking it against my ass.
“Yes,” I moaned, a rush of adrenaline coursing through me. God yes I did.
“What do you want?” he asked. “Say the words.”
“I want your cock,” I begged, my voice cracking. “I want your big fucking cock.”
His voice was hot in my ear as he grabbed me by the hair and jerked my head back, bringing me to the sweet intersection of pleasure and pain. “You want me to fuck you like this? From behind? While you watch in the mirror?”
“Yes,” I moaned. “I want to watch. I want to watch you fuck me.”
With a low groan, he thrusted hard inside me, both of us moaning at the deep connection. He released my hair so I could fulfill my pledge to watch our reflection, his hands sliding down to grip my hips tightly. For a moment we just stayed there like that, our eyes locked in the mirror, Ford’s cock buried in me, my hands gripping the counter, my breasts swaying heavily, my pussy throbbing.
“Do it,” I whispered. “Fuck me.”
Then he began to move.
He slowly pulled out, giving my ass a hard, stinging slap. Then, with a growl, he slammed back inside, taking my breath away. Somehow, he was able to fill me up even more. His thrusts were fast, frantic, pushing me against the edge of the vanity. It felt animalistic and out of control and absolutely hot.
“Look at those tits bounce,” Ford said, pounding rhythmically. “You like that?”
“I love it,” I groaned.
“God, you’re fucking perfect,” he gasped, fucking me even faster and harder, and I realized that my dirty talk was just as intoxicating to him as his wicked words were to me. I saw my chance to push him over the edge, so I did it. I took control, arching my back so he could pump even deeper, rocking my hips in time to meet every thrust of his cock.
I wanted to make sure he never forgot this night. I started moaning louder, letting loose everything I felt inside, giving voice to all the pleasure building up. I let it all out, glad we had an entire house to ourselves to fill with the sounds of our fucking. I wanted him to know what he was doing to me, wanted him to feel it from his head to his toes to his fucking balls.
“Fuck me, Ford,” I moaned. “Fuck my tight little pussy. Make me come on your cock.”
“Jesus, Em,” he groaned, breathing so fast and heavy that I was sure he had worked up a sweat all over again.
“Yes, Ford, yes,” I yelled, pitching my voice high like a porn star. I loved what I was doing to him, making him lose himself, his eyes closed as he let out a breathless stream of curses.
It was clear that the sex we’d had last night—decent, but so “bare minimum” as to be forgettable—wasn’t worth it. Especially when I was reminded of what I was missing. I wouldn’t resort to it again. Not a chance.
Thiswas what I wanted. Hot, dirty, passionate sex. No inhibitions, no shame. The kind of sex that would be seared into Ford’s memory and my own.
The sound of sex filled the bathroom, the chorus of our grunts and moans along with Ford’s hips hitting the back of my legs with solid, hot slaps. I could feel every inch of him inside of me, could feel another climax building with every thrust.
Still gripping my hip with one hand, Ford brought the other one down to my clit. As he speared into me from behind, he squeezed my clit, the dual sensation of his cock and his hand pushing me over the edge.
“I’m coming,” I said, my gaze still glued to our reflection. “Watch me come, Ford.”
But it was Ford who came first, gasping as he spilled into me, our eyes locked in the mirror. He was still coming when my own orgasm hit, my body clenching tight around his cock as I cried out my pleasure. When I finally stopped shaking, I realized that he was still hard and buried deep inside me. I’d expected him to pull out and collapse in a heap, but instead, he withdrew from my body and pulled me into the bedroom.
“How are you still hard?” I asked, trying to catch my breath.
“Magic,” he said with a laugh. “You want to go again?”
